This is, in every way, my life. Except I suck at sports with balls in them. Creepy-ass nationally ranked precision dance. That was my game.

You totally would have made fun of me. Lumped me in with the cheerleaders.

I want to make one thing perfectly clear:

I did not cheer.

Not even from the stands.

I was too busy not having bunny sex with everyone else. (and while we’re on the subject of stereotypes…)

I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I know I want it to be spelled right and punctuated correctly. I guess that’s something.

I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I know I want it to be spelled right and punctuated correctly. I guess that’s something.